


Anticipation

by Nebulad



Series: Sea of Stars [19]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-08
Updated: 2015-10-08
Packaged: 2018-04-25 11:16:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4958437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nebulad/pseuds/Nebulad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Practicality aside, she did love her great big husband. Even though both of them steadfastly maintained that they wouldn’t have bothered to get married if it wasn’t legally convenient on both Earth and Palaven, it didn’t stop Garrus from bringing her flowers every time he went out without her, or Faust from obsessively trying to force her stupid mouth to speak the Galactic Common Turian Dialect.</p><p>It didn’t stop Shepard from tormenting herself over their anniversary either.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anticipation

Faust was, at her very core, a sentimentalist. Nostalgic to the bone, she’d struggled for months trying to think of something _jaw dropping_ to give Garrus for their first anniversary. They’d gotten married after the war- it’d been a turian ceremony since Shep didn’t _have_ any traditions that weren’t steeped in military history (and Anderson was dead, so what did she even care about those?), and with her face covered in sticky, painted on clan symbols that matched Garrus’, she became Ms. Vakarian-Shepard.

_(She kept her name last because she figured that way her last name was still Shepard. Garrus teased her for being obsessed with having the last say, even in title alone)_

They’d done it for largely practical reasons- she’d been taken to an Alliance hospital after the Citadel went for a shit, and protocol forbade non-family members from receiving updates. She’d been too unconscious to tell them that Garrus definitely had the okay to hear about what was happening, and everyone in the brass who knew she’d been fraternizing with the turian was too busy rebuilding earth. Communications were sporadic and scattered, so Garrus had simply haunted the waiting room stubbornly until Faust had woken up and almost panicked because she didn’t know where he was.

Practicality aside, she did love her great big husband. Even though both of them steadfastly maintained that they wouldn’t have bothered to get married if it wasn’t legally convenient on both Earth and Palaven, it didn’t stop Garrus from bringing her flowers every time he went out without her, or Faust from obsessively trying to force her stupid mouth to speak the Galactic Common Turian Dialect.

_(“That was close, Shep, really close. You just have to, uh. Stop flexing your lips so much. Or at all,” Solana had advised)_

It didn’t stop Shepard from tormenting herself over their anniversary either.

They weren’t a regular couple, and by extension they couldn’t have just a regular night out. Their last night out had ended in a tango that had gone _viral_ on the extranet, so she had to beat Garrus learning to fucking dance for her.

She received the answer in the unlikely form of Talus Vakarian, her father-in-law. He clearly resented her, which she didn’t blame him for- Garrus took a leave of absence to help her chase down Saren (a case he was supposed to have given up), then came back and quit his job to go become a vigilante on some garbage asteroid station, and after almost dying there, went on a literal suicide mission with her. After surviving _that_ suicide mission, he returned long enough to be with his mother before she died, then left again on another high-risk Normandy operation. He got his leg blown off in battle and returned to his father with the wife that had been the root cause of it all, and the polar opposite of everything he valued- regulations, restrictions, and self-control.

She wasn’t going to call Talus _dad_ any time soon.

He walked in on her brainstorming in the form of dextro-cooking. “Commander,” he greeted, eyeing her slightly purple creation oddly. She was about a second away from snapping and starting to throw pseudo-dextro-cake at the walls, and didn’t ask Talus to be snide about it.

“Honourable discharge, sir. _Shepard_ works,” she said tersely.

“Why are you destroying my kitchen, _Shepard?”_ he returned. _I fucking know where Garrus gets that smart fucking mouth from,_ she thought viciously, turning to start cleaning.

“I made a cake,” she returned sharply.

“Out of _what?”_

“Love and willpower- look I’ll get rid of it all right? I’m sorry.” She didn’t like snapping at Talus because it didn’t make him think any more of her than he did- less if possible, because it displayed her horrible lack of control that he so despised.

“You made it for Garrus?” he asked.

“Assuming it had turned out edible, yes sir,” she replied. “As it is I just made it for some very brave raccoons.”

“I’ll pretend I know what that means. Why didn’t you buy one?” he asked as she scrubbed away at a sticky bit in a bowl

“No offense sir, but a storebought cake is kind of a shitty anniversary gift.” She hadn’t expected him to mark the date- he’d been at the wedding, but only because he didn’t _actively_ dislike the match. If it hadn’t happened, he wouldn’t have been sad either.

“A cake in general would be as well, I imagine. Consider this a gift then, Commander,” he said, leaning over the counter. She stared, a little nervous. “They let Harkin out of prison on the Citadel last week.” Faust scowled.

“How the fuck did they get away with _letting him out?_ He’s been helping criminals disappear for years- they can’t keep track of him, what sort of parole obligations would he be able to fill? He’ll just be gone!” she insisted.

“You sound like Garrus when you complain like that, Commander,” Talus said with a slight shake of his head, then turned. “I’m going to file some paperwork for Victus if anyone needs me.” He disappeared upstairs and Shepard looked down at her slightly wrinkled fingers before launching over to where she’d put down her omni-tool so it wasn’t in the way of her cooking. She dialled and waited.

“Shepard?” Miranda sounded surprised.

“Can you do me a favour?”

. . . . .

"Shepard, where are we going?" Garrus asked anxiously. She tried to slow her pace- he refused to put himself on the cloning list for a new leg _("Lots of people need pieces grown back, Shep. I can deal with a prosthetic for a while")_ so his balance was a little shot. Moving too quickly was painful, not that he'd ever _ask_ her to slow down. "And should I have armour on?"

"You can't wear armour yet," she reminded him. Armour made it hard for the leg to support him. "Hopefully you won't need it, but that's what you haul around your biotic girlfriend for." If all went as planned, Miranda would have launched the trap and had Harkin metaphorically gift-wrapped for when they got there. “Get any word from C-Sec lately?” she asked with all the subtlety of a krogan with a flamethrower. Lucky for her, Garrus could be incredibly dense when he wanted to be. He made an angry clicking with his mandibles.

“They let _Harkin_ out of prison. Basic level _one_ criminal scum and they couldn’t keep their hands on him. _Low priority-_ the guy’s been giving free passes off planet to _slavers_ for cash, and he’s _low priority._ C-Sec can’t even arrest high-priority criminals, and let the small timers free,” he growled. Whatever inflection his sub-vocals were giving his words, it sounded rude as hell.

“You don’t say?” she asked, grinning as she took his arm. He looked down at her.

“Where are we going?”

“Anniversary surprise.”

“In the warehouse district?”

“I find giant industrial boxes filled with explosives _incredibly_ romantic,” she argued. Garrus was silent for a moment, but she saw his irises grow and shrink rapidly. She remembered searching that particular phenomena after the first time she’d seen it happen- it was a cue of excitement.

Anticipation.

“Best wife ever,” he swore, readying his rifle. Shepard pulled out her shotgun, feeling herself slip back into soldier mode. It was less scary than she thought it would be.

“Shout if you need support- he shouldn’t have mechs this time around,” she said, then grabbed his carapace and pulled him down to kiss her. He was so excited that his mouth was vibrating, so she pulled away quick. “You know it’s funny- if not for Harkin we might have never met. He directed me to you in Dr. Michel’s office,” she said, letting him go.

“No kidding? Does that make it ironic that we’re hunting him down on our first anniversary?” he asked, his eyes trained to the alleyways they passed.

“Dunno. I don’t really plan on shaking his hand for it though- I think his exact words were _why don’t you sit your sweet little ass down beside old Harkin.”_ Not that she’d been holding a grudge for over three years.

“Right between the eyes, just for you honey,” Garrus promised, leaning over to nuzzle her. Faust’s chest swelled, although she distantly acknowledged that being charmed by the promise of murder was probably not healthy.

“Can’t wait, Gare.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> prompt fill on tumblr, did you know you can just go to nebulaad.tumblr.com/ask and tell me what to write? amazing. esp since im uncreative and dull.


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